


Sea and Sky

by tess1978



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3, Fallout 4
Genre: Adultery, Angst, Domestic Violence, F/M, Kissing, Marriage, More characters to be added as they appear - Freeform, Oral Sex, Possible Character Death, Smut, Tropes, Vaginal Sex, anti-feminist, hopefully i can redeem them later, i added fallout 3 to the tags because will's gang is kind of a blend of fo3 and fo4 characters, i read too many romance novels, it's a terrible fic, my influences show here, shitty ones from the 80s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-07-25 10:11:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7528699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tess1978/pseuds/tess1978
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rosaline Jacobs weds Arthur Maxson in a whirlwind romance. But shortly after their wedding, an unpleasant truth tears them apart. Angry and betrayed, Rosaline flees to the Commonwealth, where she meets the charming, handsome, and free-spirited William Chase, a man who is the polar opposite of the straight-laced Elder in every way. </p>
<p>Every way but one. Will is Arthur’s identical twin brother. Having forsaken the Brotherhood years before, he has chosen instead the company of criminals and raiders, making his way in the world through questionable means. </p>
<p>Torn between the two men she loves, Rosaline must make a choice. But other forces are at work, and soon the violence and conflict of the Commonwealth may take the decision out of her hands entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Elder Maxson

Rosaline Jacobs stepped off of the Vertibird and onto the airship with no small amount of trepidation. Since emerging from the vault nearly a year ago, she had been making her way in the world as best she could, learning quickly how to fight and survive, scrapping and selling what she could to keep food in her belly and a roof over her head. 

An early experience with an unpleasant group of people who had turned out to be raiders had been a close call that left her wary of most people. The others she had met, from the Railroad and the Minutemen, had not instilled enough confidence in her to convince her that she could trust them.

But when she had stumbled across Paladin Danse at the Cambridge Police Station, his quiet confidence and authority reassured her like nothing else had done since she’d woken up from her two hundred year slumber. 

She’d been aware of the Brotherhood since they had arrived in the Commonwealth some nine months earlier- their large airship hanging conspicuously in the sky- but she hadn’t paid them any mind until she met Danse. She had helped him out at the airport on a few missions, and he had begun to speak with her about her education and skills. When he offered to bring her aboard the Prydwen so she could meet more of the order and consider joining as a scribe, she agreed. She had grown up in a military family and the familiar structure of command and rank was reassuring. 

The mention of hot showers hadn’t hurt either.

That was how she’d found herself here, following the Paladin to the Command Deck, just in time to witness the Elder give a speech.

Not that she heard a word the Elder said. 

When she saw Elder Maxson for the first time, he took her breath away. He was beautiful. Maxson was tall, around six feet or so, Rosaline guessed. He was dressed in a black flight suit and a heavy, brown leather coat with a sheepskin collar. She wasn’t sure if it was the coat or if it was just him, but he appeared to be stacked as hell, with broad shoulders and a flat belly. He had hard thighs beneath his coat that flexed as he strode the deck with his hands behind his back, speaking emphatically. Rosaline eyed him with appreciation, but tried not to let her gaze linger too long on his body.

She let her eyes wander to his face and tried desperately not to drool. He frowned as he spoke, but it in no way detracted from his good looks. He had thick, dark brown hair that was swept back from his brow and slicked down firmly. The sides were cut short, a common style with the Brotherhood. His square jaw was firm and smoothly shaven. He had high, cheekbones and a strong, aristocratic nose. A long scar ran down the right side of his face, giving him a dangerous aura. His brows were heavy and pulled down over his eyes, which were the stunning bright blue of hubflowers first thing in the morning. 

Eyes that were looking straight at Rosaline.

She felt as if his gaze was searing into her soul. Her belly turned to liquid as he watched her, never breaking stride or cadence in his speech. By the time it was over and he dismissed the crew, her heart was pounding uncontrollably in her chest. 

Paladin Danse stepped forward. “Sir, this is Rosaline Jacobs, the survivor from Vault 111 I told you about.”

Maxson didn’t take his eyes off her, not even to glance at the Paladin when he spoke. 

“I’m happy to finally meet you, Miss Jacobs,” the Elder said. “The Paladin told me you were educated and would make a good scribe, but he didn’t say how beautiful you were.”

Rosaline felt the heat flush in her cheeks as he spoke, his voice low and sensual. A year spent in this post-apocalyptic wasteland had not been kind to her appearance, but she had done what she could to keep her hair and skin in good condition. Besides, she wasn’t about to argue if a handsome man like Maxson wanted to compliment her.

Instead she smiled up at him, and when he offered her his hand she took it willingly. “I would love to get to know you better, Miss Jacobs. Maybe we can talk somewhere a little more private? We can discuss your future. With the Brotherhood.”

Rosaline felt more than saw Danse straighten in his power armour, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the Elder to confirm. 

“You must be hungry. I understand it can be quite… difficult out in the Commonwealth,” he said. Rosaline nodded.

“Paladin!” Maxson spoke suddenly. “Please advise the cook that we will be dining in my quarters tonight.” His fingers were warm as they surrounded hers and she tried not to lean into him wantonly.

The Paladin hesitated a moment before responding. “Yes, Sir,” he said before he saluted and left.

Maxson took her other hand in his and pressed them to his lips. Suddenly, he frowned. “I’m sorry, I should have asked first. It was presumptuous of me to assume-”

“No, no, it’s fine, Elder Maxson. I… I would like to get to know you better too.” She flushed and for the first time looked away from him.

“Please, call me Arthur.”

“Only if you will call me Rosaline”

“Rosaline…” he whispered, and the sound of her name on his lips sent fire straight to her belly. He leaned forward and her eyes fluttered closed. She was certain he would kiss her, and she was certain that it was what she wanted more than anything else in that moment. 

They were interrupted by a squire. “Elder, sir,” the child squeaked. “The guest room is ready and your supper will be ready in an hour.”

Arthur stepped back and nodded. “Please escort Miss Jacobs to the guest room so she may freshen up, and then show her to the Elder’s quarters when she is ready. 

“Yes, sir,” replied the squire, and Rosaline reluctantly removed her fingers from Arthur’s warm grasp and followed the girl out of the Command Deck.

***

Just under an hour later, Rosaline stood in front of Arthur Maxson’s door, twisting her hands together nervously. The squire, burdened with trays of steaming food, knocked awkwardly on the door.

It turned out it wasn’t the coat. It was definitely all him. When Arthur opened the door, he was dressed only in the black jumpsuit. It clung to every single bulging muscle on his body. Rosaline glanced down but then forced herself to look back at his face. The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he stepped back to let the squire and Rosaline in.

She stood to the side while the girl set out the food, and when the child left, Arthur shut the door behind her and pulled out a chair for Rosaline.

Rosaline tasted nothing she ate. Instead she listened to Arthur as he spoke, telling her a little about the Brotherhood and its history. In return she told him about the Vault, and how she, along with her neighbors, had been cryogenically frozen for over 210 years. Eventually, according to the terminals, someone from the institute had entered the vault, retrieved what little there was for tech, and then turned off the main breaker to the vault, leaving the pods to deactivate. The occupants had suffocated one by one as they panicked in their pods.

“How did you escape?” Arthur asked, leaning forward as she spoke.

“I happened to have a nail file and I was able to slip it into the door and pop the latch.” She frowned, remembering. “It wouldn’t work from the outside, and the power was off so I couldn’t open them with the switch. By the time I found the breaker and turned it on, they were all gone.”

“Were you close with your neighbors?” 

“No, I’d just moved to the neighborhood a few months before. I wasn’t friends with any of them. But I knew them all by face, if not by name.”

He reached for her hand across the table and held it, squeezing her fingers once, gently, in sympathy. Rosaline looked at him. “It...it was a long time ago. I defrosted over a year ago.”

She struggled to concentrate on what he was saying, but his gaze boring into her was very distracting. 

Rosaline had never met a man as attractive as Arthur Maxson before. There was something about his formal, clipped speech, his straight backed, commanding posture, and his controlled, precise movements that just made her feel like she was about thirty seconds away from melting into a puddle on the floor. 

They chatted more, their food finished, until a bell rang over the loudspeaker, and a voice announced the time and duty change. Arthur straightened. “I apologize. I’ve kept you too late. We didn’t even discuss scribe duties.”

“I hadn’t really noticed,” Rosaline said in a low voice. Arthur didn’t reply for a long minute. Rosaline could feel the burn of his eyes on her and she leaned slightly towards him, stopped only by the table between them. 

“Rosaline,” he whispered, his eyes darkening beneath his brows.

Her eyes were drawn to his lips when he spoke and she licked her own in response. She felt hot all over and her skin seemed to tighten with every breath she took until her whole body screamed out to be near him.

“Rosaline,” he said again. “You should probably get back.”

She startled when he stood, and she stood as well. He went to the door and she followed, feeling a little dazed. She put her hand on the latch and looked up at him. He was standing so close she could feel the fan of his breath on her cheek. 

“I--” she began, seeking the words to take her leave. Her thought faded as soon as it began, and she looked up into his eyes. 

Arthur groaned suddenly and then as if he was giving up on something, he thrust his hand into her hair and pulled her face to his. 

Rosaline sighed as his lips descended onto hers. She brought her own hand up and rested it on his smooth cheek, feeling the shape of his jaw beneath her fingers. 

His lips were firm and yet gentle, urgent but controlled, but Rosaline was slowly losing her own control as his tongue swept her mouth, thoroughly seeking out all her corners. 

Her knees felt like they were about to buckle beneath her so she grabbed his jumpsuit to hold on. Arthur pulled her tighter to his body, holding her up, and she opened to him more.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the kiss was over. 

“We need to stop,” Arthur panted. “We need to stop. There are things that need to be discussed first. We’ll talk again in the morning. At breakfast.”

It sounded like it pained him to say the words, and as badly as she wanted him just now, they pained her just as much to hear.

Rosaline stepped back, running her hands over her hair and clothing, partly to straighten them out and partly to gain a little bit of composure. 

“All right,” she replied. “Breakfast.”

Arthur nodded, then he bent and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek before opening the door for her. “Thank you for the wonderful evening, Rosaline,”

“You too, Elder.”

At that, she turned and walked away.


	2. Raise me up

Rosaline had just finished getting dressed and was tidying her hair the next morning when a knock came at her door. She opened it to find Arthur Maxson standing there. 

“Good morning, Rosaline. I was hoping you would join me for breakfast and we could finish talking,” he said. 

Rosaline had lain awake for a long time last night, and by the time she had drifted off, comfortable in the first real bed she had encountered since she had escaped the vault, she had nearly convinced herself that Arthur Maxson wasn’t quite as attractive as she had thought. It had been a while, she was lonely, she was drawn to the reassuring authority of the military-like organization. A million excuses had whirled in her mind.

But when she looked at him, standing outside her door, his back straight and his hands behind his back, his formal posture belying the heat in his eyes, all the excuses she had formulated vanished. 

“I’d love to,” she answered, and his eyes softened slightly as he held his arm out to her with a smile. 

They ate in the mess hall, and Arthur explained the duties of a scribe and their role within the organization. It sounded quite acceptable to her. Rosaline had been a lawyer before the bombs, and had just gotten her first position in a small firm. She was well educated and joining the Brotherhood seemed like a better use of her skills than the hard existence she’d been eking out alone in the Commonwealth.

Arthur told her about the Brotherhood, their mission to preserve technology for the betterment of mankind, their deep familial bond with one another as Brothers in Steel, the history and aims of the organization and his own chapter. He had become the Elder ten years earlier, at the age of sixteen, and he was descended from the first Maxson who had founded the organization over two centuries ago. 

Rosaline could feel the passion and dedication in him as he spoke of the Brotherhood, his home and purpose for all his life. It reminded her in a lot of ways of her father, uncles, and grandfather, all of whom had been proud members of the US military in one form or another. She told him of her family and he took her hand in his, squeezing in sympathy when she mentioned how much she missed them. She felt a little as though she had found a kindred soul in Arthur Maxson.

As they talked, Rosaline gradually became aware of the attention they were getting from the people around them. 

“Why is everyone staring at us?” she asked Arthur. 

“Because I am the Elder and generally this is not how we recruit people into the Brotherhood,” he replied. “Usually, recruits would be brought to the correct senior officer for assessment and then go through stages of initiation and training before being fully accepted as a scribe or knight.”

Rosaline flushed. “Why am I getting special treatment?” she asked.

“When Paladin Danse told me about your background and education, I was intrigued and wanted to meet you personally. But when I saw you, everything else was just… impulse. I apologize. I generally don’t behave rashly. At least…”

Arthur stopped himself and straightened in his seat. “You’re right,” he said. “People are watching us. If you care to, I can give you a tour of the Prydwen and maybe we can talk where there aren’t so many people.”

Rosaline nodded and together they left the mess hall. He showed her the armour bay, the flight deck, and the infirmary, then the gym and locker rooms. The quarters were organized by divisions and Arthur showed her where the scribe quarters were. “I’m sorry, it’s a bit of a downgrade from guest quarters.”

Rosaline brushed him off. She’d seen worse. 

They visited the bridge and the engine rooms next, and then he brought her to the labs. There were a variety of experimental plants growing under lights, and some cages holding various mutated fauna as well. Arthur strode to a box of plants bedecked with orange blossoms. He picked one and pressed it to his nose.

The scribe working nearby gave an indignant “Hey!” but Arthur ignored her and held the flower out for Rosaline to smell. It had an unusual citrus fragrance that reminded her of the oranges she used to get in her stocking as a child, before rationing made tropical produce an expensive rarity. 

“May I?” Arthur asked, indicating her hair.

Rosaline nodded and leaned forward. Arthur wound the flower into her curls, then leaned back, brushing a stray lock from her cheek. She tried not to lean into his hand. 

“Would you like to see the forecastle?” he asked. 

Rosaline had no idea what a forecastle was but she nodded anyways. 

She followed him up some stairs and down a long hallway to a door. When he opened it and held it open for her, the view that greeted her took her breath away. 

All beneath them lay the city, ruined buildings and rusted cars, but a wind whipped off the sea and the smell was the same as ever… cleaner actually, as the waste of a million people was no longer being pumped into the water. 

Arthur came up behind her and she could feel the heat of his body, the bulk of him as he pressed against her back. She turned to face him and looked up, her hand coming to rest on his chest, seemingly of its own accord. 

“Rosaline,” he said, his voice low. The way her name spilled off of his tongue made her belly clench with arousal. 

“Arthur,” she whispered back.

It was like the pull of gravity, the inescapable attraction of two bodies in space, the way they came together, the kiss inevitable. His tongue swept her mouth as she opened to him, and his arms came around her and gathered her up. 

She reveled in his strength as he crushed her against his chest and she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer, feeling the soft velvet of his close-shorn hair on the nape of his neck. 

His own hands wound into her hair, tangling in her curls, and when he tipped her head back to gain access to the sensitive skin of her throat. The blossom he had placed there came free and floated away, caught in the breeze. 

Rosaline clenched her hands in the lapels of Arthur’s coat, trying to stay vertical as his mouth did things to her that she didn’t think were possible, mouthing at her neck and behind her ear, sending waves of heat through her entire body. The tension within her mounted as her arousal grew and she pressed closer. Somehow his thigh ended up between her legs and she pressed against him, trying desperately to quench the urgency that was swelling between her legs.

Arthur’s hand slid down her throat to the collar of her shirt, then lower, where he cupped her breast through her shirt, his thumb brushing the hard nub of her nipple. She rode the wave of sensation higher as the kisses on her neck turned hard, a growl escaping him as he scraped his teeth along her throat. 

She could feel the pressure building within her to unbearable levels. She rode his leg harder, chasing after her release and uncaring what he thought of her, but it remained just out of reach until finally, with a strangled groan he muttered, “Rosaline.” The sound of her name on his lips pushed her over the edge and she came, clamping her legs on Arthur’s thigh and riding out the aftershocks as his lips crashed back down on hers once again.

When she finally came down, she buried her head in his coat in embarrassment. His arms came around her tightly for a long moment as she cooled down, the breeze ruffling her hair gently at her neck. 

After a while Rosaline gathered enough courage to look up at him. He was looking at her with an inscrutable expression on his face. She opened her mouth to speak but before she could he interrupted her. 

“I’m sorry,” he said

“S-sorry?” 

“That was inappropriate.” He stepped back slightly, putting distance between them. “I just…” he pushed a hand through his hair in frustration, trying to find the words. “I’ve just never felt like this before with anyone, so out of control. I know we’ve just met, but I want you. I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life, and it’s making me behave recklessly. There are protocols and regulations and-” 

Arthur let out a frustrated sound, and stepped back further. 

“Look,” he said. “I have a meeting to get to. I’ll see you later.”

Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode back through the door into the Prydwen.

Rosaline was left standing there, slightly stunned. She turned to look out over the water, wondering how she’d gone from intense pleasure in his arms one moment to standing alone the next. 

He had said he’d never felt like this before with anyone, and the truth was neither had Rosaline. She’d had boyfriends, here and there, but nothing serious. She’d never before felt this urgent need to be with someone before. Like she was drawn to him in some inexorable way.

She gripped the railing tightly, trying to get control of her emotions, frowning in embarrassment. She just met him yesterday and today she was half in love with him and humping his leg. No wonder he ran off. 

Her pained musings were interrupted when the door burst back open and Arthur came back out onto the Forecastle deck, striding up to her with a determined look on his face. 

“I’m sorry, Rosaline,” he said. “The truth is that I can’t just see you. I can’t have a casual relationship with you. There are other Elders, the other elite from the Brotherhood. There’s the matter of my family name. There is my reputation with the people under my command.”

“I understand,” Rosaline began to respond, but Arthur cut her off.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that, while an indiscretion here and there can be overlooked, a relationship cannot. As soon as the others find out about you, there will be questions. You will be taken and tested, poked and prodded, your history and background scrutinized. You are an unknown element, and there are plenty of people who would rather see me with a pedigreed Brotherhood name.”

She was beginning to realize, he was trying to brush her off. She straightened, stiffly, and took a step back, but he took her hand in his and continued. 

“We couldn’t get to know each other that way. It would be a year or more before they would let us be together and to be honest, Rosaline, I can’t wait a year.”

Rosaline’s heart skipped a beat.

“I want you now. I need you now. God, I know this is sudden, but I think I love you, and I don’t want to wait. We could-I… that is…” he straightened suddenly, as if taking refuge in formality. He took a deep breath. “If we got married now, they couldn’t say a word. What’s done is done, and all the outrage in the world won’t give them the power to break us apart.”

Rosaline stood there, her mouth agape. Of all the things she thought would come out of his mouth, a proposal was pretty much the last. She was stunned. She tried to process what he was asking, but it was a lot to wrap her head around. 

She looked up at him, earnestly waiting for her response. “So, you’re saying that you love me? That you want to marry me? Right now?”

“Yes, that’s correct. I want you to marry me. Right now. I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for you and I don’t want to wait another moment.” He paused and a muscle worked in his jaw. “However, if you would prefer to wait, go through the formalities and vetting process, that would be an acceptable option as well.”

The look on his face clearly indicated that waiting was _not_ an acceptable option, but that if she chose that, he would allow it.

Rosaline looked at him, searching his face. Did she want to marry this man she’d just met? The one she was rapidly falling for? Or would she rather go through an unpleasant courting period? 

“Would I still be able to be a scribe?” she wondered.

“Yes, absolutely,” Arthur answered. You would have a great deal of duties and responsibilities as Lady to the Elder, but you would be a part of the Brotherhood and expected to contribute like everyone else.”

She looked into his eyes, struck by the brilliant blue of them as he looked back at her. She felt as if she could stare into them for the rest of her life. 

“Yes,” she said, almost to herself at first. Then she straightened and said again, more firmly, “Yes, Arthur. I will marry you. Right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just to clarify, I did make this a bit of an AU. Rosaline has no husband or baby, and I set it about five or six years later than the game. Otherwise nothing is really affected. The main reason I did this is simply because sometimes I get tired of Arthur being twenty years old, and because I don't really want to deal with grief or the pressing issue of retrieving Shaun. Aside from these factors, the AU thing isn't really going to affect the plot so don't worry too much about it.


	3. Bound

Forty-eight hours later, Rosaline and Arthur were married by Knight-Captain Kells, the EO of the Prydwen, on the command deck, right in front of the bay windows overlooking the city. They were dressed normally, Arthur in his coat and flight suit and Rosaline in a light blue dress someone had found for her, and with a crown of the orange blossoms from the lab woven into her hair. There were no rings, and the ceremony was strange with vows containing metaphors for metal and eternal steel. But it was easy enough to follow along.

Paladin Danse stood as witness for Rosaline, and a very sour looking Proctor Quinlan stood up for Arthur. 

Although the Paladin had merely raised an eyebrow at the request, looking from one to the other curiously, the Proctor had seemed quite upset until Arthur had shut him down.

“There are protocols for a reason, Elder. And we have provided outlets for… this sort of thing. If you need to-”

Arthur had cut him off. “Percy, it’s not like that. You saw the records. You know this is a good decision. A lot can happen by the time we get all the protocols out of the way. We’re going to be at war soon. You have to agree it’s better not to wait on something like this.”

“The Codex-”

“I know the Codex. You taught it to me. Once it’s done, there’s nothing that anyone can do.

“You could have-”

“It’s too late for that now. What’s done is done. I’ve decided. Draw up the documents.”

The Proctor’s shoulders had slumped in defeat. “Yes, sir,” 

The requisite paperwork had taken nearly two days to complete, and Arthur spent that time with Rosaline outlining her duties as the Lady to the Elder. She was to be decorous, circumspect, and respectable in public. Her behaviour would reflect on him and thus affect his reputation with the organization as a whole. Rosaline knew he was a leader, and she had assumed as much before she had accepted his proposal, so she wasn’t surprised.

She was a lawyer, and no stranger to professional behaviour, so the prospect didn’t faze her. But it hadn’t been all rules and protocol the last few days. They had sat for hours on the bench in the Command Deck, looking at the stars through the windows. She’d been thoroughly kissed behind the bulkhead that ran behind the mess. And they had loitered in the doorway to the guest quarters for what seemed an eternity, sharing kisses and whispered words, both unwilling to part, because they had agreed to wait until they were married.

By the time the marriage contracts were drawn up and the pair stood before the Knight-Captain as he said the words that bound them together, it was clear to everyone that they couldn’t keep their eyes -or hands- off of each other. 

When the ceremony was over and the papers signed, Rosaline and Arthur walked along the line of assembled Brotherhood scribes, soldiers, initiates, and squires, shaking each hand as they nodded and called her “Lady Maxson”.

The majority of the crew gathered in the mess for the wedding dinner, and the crew used it as a welcome excuse to celebrate. Drinks were passed around much more liberally than was generally allowed, and the crowd became boisterous once the food was gone. Someone pulled out a flute and another a kind of improvised string instrument and they began to sing.

The songs reminded Rosaline of the sea shanties that played in the Boston pubs before the war, the crew singing and lifting their cups.

>   
>  Oh, a drop of Maxson’s blood wouldn’t do us any harm,  
>  Oh, a drop of Maxson’s blood wouldn’t do us any harm,  
>  Oh, a drop of Maxson’s blood wouldn’t do us any harm,  
>  An’ we’ll all hang on behind!
> 
> So we’ll ro-o-oll the old Prydwen along!  
>  An’ we’ll roll the golden Prydwen along!  
>  So we’ll ro-o-oll the old Prydwen along!  
>  An’ we’ll all hang on behind!
> 
> Oh, mirelurk stew wouldn’t do us any harm,  
>  Oh, mirelurk stew wouldn’t do us any harm,  
>  Oh, mirelurk stew wouldn’t do us any harm,  
>  An’ we’ll all hang on behind!  
> 

Rosaline smiled as the song grew bawdier with each verse, until eventually it tapered off into laughter and cheers. A moment later, they started with a new song.

>   
>  The Prydwen sailed to Boston  
>  Across the Glowing Sea  
>  The Elder hit the tavern  
>  With his crew of fifty-three  
> 

Rosaline noticed Arthur’s face begin to redden as the song began, and he pulled her to her feet. “I think this is our cue to retire,” he said.

As he led her away from the mess towards his -no their- quarters, the verses rang through the ship.

>   
>  After drinking up their pay  
>  They staggered through the town  
>  But all the inns and settlements  
>  Turned the brothers down
> 
> The Elder said “Fear not, me lads  
>  You all can come with me  
>  I live just ‘round the corner  
>  And you all can stay for free”
> 
> But when the Elder’s wife awoke  
>  Upon the break of day  
>  They say that you could hear her wailin’  
>  Clear to old Ring A…  
> 

The music could still be heard but the lyrics were muffled as Arthur closed the door behind him, leaving them alone in the room.

Arthur wasted no time, pulling her into his arms and kissing her hard and fast on the mouth, leaving her breathless and gasping. “I love you,” he muttered into her mouth.

“I love you too,” she whispered back. 

Arthur growled in a way that sent shivers down her spine. Rosaline put her arms around his neck and shrieked as he lifted her without warning, scooping her up and carrying her to the bed. 

“Do you know how much I’ve wanted this…. I’ve wanted you…. Ever since I first laid eyes on you?” he asked.

“As much as I’ve wanted to be with you?” Rosaline replied, before pulling him down for another kiss. 

His hand slid to her knee, up her thigh and she shivered with urgency at his touch. Her fingers crept to his collar and she tried to undo his jumpsuit but she fumbled at the zippers and clasps until he had mercy on her and stood up. 

She watched as he removed his coat and hung it up, then followed it with his jumpsuit. It seemed to take forever as he stripped it away, and his impatience was apparent by the time he rolled it down his legs and kicked it away, half inside out. 

His body was glorious, thickly muscled with a thick dusting of dark hair on his chest that tapered down his belly and into his underwear. Her fingers itched to touch it, and he didn’t make her wait, rejoining her on the bed as soon as his jumpsuit was removed. 

Rosaline was as eager for him as he was for her, pulling him down on top of her and wrapping her leg around his thigh. Her dress rucked up around her waist as she rolled her hips against him urgently and he pressed back against her, his cock straining in his underwear. Rosaline slid her hand down his chest and belly, pushing her fingers into his shorts and grasping his cock, pulling a strangled sound from his throat as he bucked into her hand. 

Her pussy was throbbing with need, and she lifted her hips to accommodate him as he pushed her panties aside and trailed his fingers through her slick, his calloused fingertips arousing her further, forcing a low keening sound to escape her throat as she spread her legs and rocked against him. 

“Rosaline, you’re so fucking wet,” he muttered, withdrawing his fingers and leaving her keening. He tugged at her panties for a moment and then swore again, grabbing them at the side and tearing them. She lifted her hips to allow him to remove the ruined scrap and pawed at his underwear ineffectively. 

Arthur pushed her thighs further apart, shoved his briefs down just enough to free his cock, and pushed into her, moving carefully, letting her adjust to accommodate him. But she was so ready, so eager for him that she rocked against him, welcoming him deeper and soon he began to move with her.

He bit at her lip as he fucked her and she wrapped her legs around him, urging him on, each drag of his cock against her walls pushing her higher. He braced his hand beside her and slipped his other hand between them, brushing her clit with his thumb and pushing her over the edge, swallowing her cries with his mouth as she came. He stopped moving for a moment, letting her ride out the aftershocks on his cock, and then he began to move again, snapping his hips against her as he chased his own release.

His weight seemed to crush her for a moment as he collapsed atop her, his cock twitching within her as he emptied himself with a groan, but a moment later, he rolled to the side, pulling her into his arms. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I pictured something more… romantic… for our wedding night. I didn’t mean to jump you like an animal.”

Rosaline snickered. “I was just as eager, Arthur. If you’re an animal, than I’m your mate.”

“My mate.” He squeezed her tighter. “I like that.”

They lay together a short while longer, but their mingled fluids were sticky on her thighs, forcing Rosaline to get up and clean herself off, and Arthur followed. When they laid back down, their hands began to roam, exploring each other the way they hadn’t the first time, slowly.

By the time the raucous singing died off in the mess and the airship was quiet, Rosaline was taking Arthur in her mouth, gripping the base of him with her fingers, listening to the moans he made as she worked him back to full strength. She wasn’t terribly skilled, but she seemed to be doing alright, judging by the sounds he made. It wasn’t long before he pulled her on top of him, dragging her down for a kiss as she guided him back inside her. 

She rocked against him, carefully, finding the best angle to bring herself to pleasure. He held her in place when he came shortly afterwards, spurting deep inside her with a muffled shout. 

It was close to morning when they finally fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, and the last thought that drifted through Rosaline’s head as sleep overcame her was that for the first time since she had escaped that vault, she was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lifted and adapted the sea shanties above from the internet. The first song is called Roll the old Chariot, and it is a traditional song. Here you go: http://www.artofmanliness.com/sea-shanty-roll-the-old-chariot/
> 
> The second one is called The Captain’s Wife’s Lament by Paul and Storm and you can watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nqvA5IyfSSQ
> 
> It’s a little raunchier and a little less appropriate to the Brotherhood, but also hilarious and I couldn’t resist adding it. Please go check it out. Thanks to the Dumpster for help with Sea Shanties!


	4. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have edited this chapter to add a few paragraphs, which hopefully corrected a major issue that was pointed out by a few commenters. Hopefully this makes a little more sense now. Thank you very much for your remarks! My readers make me a better writer!!

The next morning, Rosaline woke to a sleepy-eyed Arthur smiling at her, and Rosaline smiled back. Their smiles turned to kisses and their kisses grew heated, and soon he pulled her out of bed and into the shower with him. They washed each other’s backs and fronts, and then came together as the spray turned cool.

Rosaline felt boneless and sleepy after that, but Arthur was getting dressed, so she followed suit. When they were both ready he kissed her on the forehead. “I have a meeting with the Proctors first thing, but I shouldn’t be long. Why don’t you go to the mess for breakfast and I will join you shortly. I’ll bring you to the scribes later on.”

Rosaline agreed, and they parted at the door.

When she made her way to the mess, she found the few people there to be in a sorry state. The revelries of the night before had not come without a cost. 

She collected some food from the galley, razorgrain porridge with honey and some chunks of mutfruit, and looked around. She spotted Paladin Danse in the corner, and as he was the only person she knew, she made her way over to him. He looked up as she approached, and indicated she join him. 

She grinned at him as he ate, and he scowled back, clearly suffering from overindulgence like the rest of the crew. He was picking at his food listlessly, and they sat together in silence for a few minutes until finally Rosaline spoke. 

“So, did you have a good time?”

Danse groaned and rolled his eyes at her, but eventually he managed a muttered sound of agreement.

“So I take it you guys don’t really party all that often, then?” she asked.

“No. Not really. The last time was probably after the Enclave was defeated. That was… I don’t know. At least fifteen years ago.”

“Wow, really? You don’t have a lot of weddings then?”

“We do, but they’re usually much smaller,” Danse replied. But Maxson’s the last of his line and finding a wife for him has been a priority for some time.”

Rosaline narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean, ‘finding a wife’?”

Danse’s eyes suddenly widened and he looked away. “Nothing. He has just been under a lot of pressure to find a spouse and carry on his family name. A Maxson founded the Brotherhood, and we have always looked to him and his family as sort of.... symbolic. Of the strength of the whole order. Of course, it’s been hard on him, the pressure to marry and produce an heir, especially since the other one… well. We don’t talk about that. Never mind. Anyway, we’re all happy you agreed so quickly. I had my doubts since you took so long to agree to join the Brotherhood, but in the end it worked out.”

Rosaline felt as though the entire room stretched out and then shrank down to the size of a pinprick. She was suddenly gasping for air as the revelation that she was just some kind of...of...breeding mare washed over her. 

“Are you telling me that Arthur married me just for my _uterus?_ ” she managed.

“Well probably not only for that. Your education and appearance make for an excellent Lady Maxson.”

Rosaline stood up quickly, knocking over the chair she had been sitting on.

“I need some air,” she muttered, turning.

She took a step and ran right into Arthur’s chest. He took her by the arms to steady her, then pressed a kiss to her cheek. “No need to run off, I’m sorry I took so long.”

Rosaline peered up at him. Her head was still reeling from what Danse had just told her. She brushed past him. She needed to clear her head.

Arthur stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Where are you going? I thought we were having breakfast?”

Rosaline spun around. “You thought? What about what I thought? I thought you were marrying me because you loved me. Now I find out you only got me up here to assess me for breeding purposes. And you didn’t even have the decency to tell me up front!” She barely noticed Danse putting his face in his hands with a groan.

Arthur straightened his back. “Obviously a family and children are part of the expectations when you marry someone.”

“Obviously? _Obviously?_ ” Arthur took a step back at the tone of her voice. “It’s not obvious to me. I assumed you were marrying me because you loved _me,_ not because of what I could give you.”

Arthur looked around. A crowd was forming. He frowned. “I do love you, Ro-” he stopped suddenly as her hand cracked across his face with a resounding smack. 

“At least have the fucking courtesy to not lie to me. I might have agreed to your creepy plan if you had at least had the decency to present it to me honestly. But instead you felt you had to trick me into it like some kind of stupid romantic schoolgirl. I don’t know what’s worse. That you did this or that I was stupid enough to fall for it.”

This time when Rosaline turned and stalked out of the mess hall, pushing her way through the crowd, Arthur tried to follow but got stuck in the crowd. 

Rosaline stalked to the Elder’s quarters. She rummaged around until she found her bag, then she found as much of her stuff as she could, cramming it in haphazardly. She stalked back out of the room and ran directly into her husband.

“Rosaline, your behavior in the mess hall was highly improper. Any concerns you have with our relationship should be brought up in private.” He looked down and frowned as he noticed her bag. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

“I’m leaving. This is _not_ what I signed up for.”

“Let’s go inside and discuss this,” he said. “I don’t want to argue in public.”

“In public. Is that all you care about? Your reputation? Oh wait. No. I forgot. You also care about carrying on the family name. You don’t care about me at all. I’m just some damn incubator for your spawn.”

Arthur reached for her but she pulled her arm back. “We’re through, Arthur. Obviously this was a huge mistake.”

There were already people starting to appear in the hallway, various scribes and knights suddenly needing to go this way. Arthur glanced at them, then straightened. Obviously if he wasn’t able to convince her to come into their quarters peacefully, he was willing to let her go rather than cause a scene. This time when she turned and stalked away, he didn’t follow. 

Rosaline made her way to the flight deck. She didn’t notice the Lancer glance at Arthur, who had just stepped out onto the deck. Arthur nodded, and the Lancer asked Rosaline where she wanted to go. 

“Anywhere. Bunker Hill. Whatever,” she replied. 

Arthur watched the vertibird as it departed, then turned and went back inside. He went directly to Proctor Quinlan’s office. 

“I think we need to get in touch with-”

The older man cut him off. “It hasn’t been long enough.”

Arthur glowered at him, until Quinlan raised his hands in surrender. “If you say so, Sir. But for the record, I am against this course of action.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is such a short chapter. And sorry it took so long to post. I was busy with Dumpstercon and some other things. But we are headed into winter again already, so I am hoping for a bit more regularity in my writing/posting.
> 
> Side note: I'm actually aware of the issues with Rosaline slapping Arthur. I'm not one to condone marital violence. I'm also not one to condone marrying someone you just met either though. There are a bunch of bad choices here. This is a terrible, tropey, antifeminist bit of trash. But at least it's a self-aware, antifeminist piece of trash. Maybe it will get better. Who knows. It's gross, I'm sorry.


	5. Will Chase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will makes an entrance.

Rosaline rolled onto her stomach, tucking her arm underneath herself and pulling the blanket up with the other one to tuck it under her chin. The blanket was warm and in her mostly asleep state, she was certain it was Arthur’s body heat that was keeping it that way. She curled unthinking into his embrace, comfortable in his arms. 

Her foot slipped out of the blanket, bringing her closer to wakefulness, and her mind tried to tell her she was alone, but she ignored it, pulling the blanket closer around herself, trying to hold the feeling of her husband’s arms around her.

_Ex-husband,_ the traitorous, alert part of her mind whispered, but she ignored it, drawing on the brief memory of his softly furred chest under her cheek. 

But all she felt was the pillow, and as hard as she tried to keep hold of the dream, it soon faded like they all do, and she found herself awake and alone in the bed she’d slept in for two of the last three weeks.

The bed was located in the Dugout Inn, in Diamond City, in the back quarters the Bobrovs reserved for their employees. She had gotten hired on here a few days after leaving the Prydwen, and she served drinks in the bar in exchange for room and board. Her only pay was the tips she made, and people nowadays weren’t nearly as generous as they had been when servers worked for coins instead of bottlecaps.

The staff had communal showers, so she made her way there and cleaned herself up. She was dressed and at the bar eating breakfast a half an hour later. When she was done eating, she looked at the clock and realized that it was only noon, and she still had a few hours to kill before she had to work, so she decided to take a stroll around Diamond City. She hopefully had enough caps for a new dress; looking pretty might make the male citizens a little more willing to part with their caps.

When she came back in later on, ready to work, it was nearly time for the supper

The dinner rush gradually gave way to the drinking customers, and the room slowly became more crowded. It was almost midnight when the newcomers came in. 

Rosaline didn’t pay much attention to them at first, she was swamped with work, but the other customers were giving them a wide berth, which caused her to gradually take notice. The four of them were at the bar, and they were certainly an intimidating looking bunch. The smallest one was a man who looked to be in his late fifties, angry and scowling. Rosaline had seen enough raiders in her day to know one when she saw one. She’d just never seen one this old before. And she wasn’t entirely sure how he had even made it into Diamond City. 

The other three didn’t look quite as rough as him, but they still were intimidating as hell. The taller woman was dark skinned with curly hair and a sharp look about her as she scanned the room. The shorter woman was still fairly tall, redheaded and freckled, her face flushed with anger as she argued with Vadim over the bar. Her voice was raised and Rosaline could make out an incongruous sounding Irish accent.

The fourth member of the party had his back turned to Rosaline, but as she came closer, he turned, leaning on the bar, and she finally got a good look at him.

When she saw his face she gasped, nearly dropping her tray. The man was Arthur Maxson. And yet… not. He was the same height, the same build, but his face was unscarred and he sported a thick, dark beard. 

But the biggest difference was his eyes. Although they were the same shape and colour as Arthur’s, the expression was totally different. Arthur was stern and reserved, very much the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel. This man was markedly different. His eyes held a sparkle, the corners crinkling as he laughed at something the old raider said. He tossed his head back and laughed with a freedom that Arthur would never be able to muster, and when the redhead turned and glared at him, trying to win his support in whatever debate she was having, he simply winked at her and slapped her right on the ass. She scowled at him before grabbing her bottle and stalking to the corner. The other three followed and soon they were settled in the chairs. 

Rosaline ran a couple rounds of drinks out to the other side of the room, then the tall woman beckoned her to their corner and so Rosaline ran over to take their order. When she returned with their drinks, the redhead and the older guy were bickering. Rosaline watched them warily, but judging by how the other woman and the Arthur clone were rolling their eyes and smirking, this was a common interaction for them. 

Rosaline set their drinks down and waited for her caps, trying not to stare at the man. Apparently she wasn’t successful, since he winked at her broadly.

“Like what you see?” he asked.

Rosaline flushed and turned to walk away, but he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back, almost causing her to fall into his lap. “It’s ok,” he said. “I’m _very_ good looking,” before releasing her.

The dark haired woman laughed, and the redhead rolled her eyes. Rosaline spared them little more than a glance, focusing her attention on the man. “You’re a Maxson,” she said, hoping to catch him off guard. 

The attempt failed. Instead of surprise or shock he just threw his head back and roared with laughter. Rosaline was taken aback by his response and straightened, grabbing her caps angrily and stalking away.

Half an hour later saw her standing at the bar waiting for another round when he slid up next to her, leaning over so she had to look at him. 

“So what makes you think I’m a Maxson,” he said. 

She looked him up and down. “I met a Maxson once. You look like a clone of him. You’re not a synth, are you?” 

“Well there’s only one other Maxson besides me,” he said. “And there’s definitely some resemblance. Why don’t you bring a bottle by our table and tell me how you know my brother?”

Arthur’s brother spun on his heel without waiting for a response, and Rosaline was left gaping after him as he returned to his friends.

Rosaline turned back to the bar and stared ahead of herself for a moment, but curiosity quickly overwhelmed her. She reached over the bar, grabbed a bottle of moonshine, and practically ran to their table. 

When he saw her approach, Maxson moved over and patted the spot beside him on the settee. She hesitated a moment, but then decided to sit down and see what he had to say. 

“First off, what’s your name?” 

“I’m Will. I stopped going by Maxson years ago when I ran away. These folks know me as Chase. I try to keep the whole Maxson thing on the DL if you know what I mean. It puts less of a target on me. That’s Jericho, Cait, and Charlie,” he said, pointing at the old raider, the redhead, and the dark haired woman in turn. “Now tell me how you know Arthur.”

“You ran away from the Brotherhood?” 

“Yeah, when I was sixteen. You’re avoiding the question. Who are you and how do you know the _Elder?_ ” 

The way he said it indicated he didn’t have a whole lot of respect for the title. Rosaline was nearly exploding with curiosity. But she figured he wouldn’t tell her anything else unless she shared a little as well. 

“I’m Rosaline Maxson,” she said. “I’m married to Arthur. Or was. I don’t know. We had a… disagreement. And I left.”

“I may not keep in touch with my brother very much but I do keep my ear to the ground. Or the sky, as it were. I would have heard if my brother got married. How long have you been married and why are you serving drinks in Diamond City?”

“I was married to him for about eighteen hours before I left.”

Will tipped his head back and roared at that. He laughed so long that Rosaline started to get angry again and made to leave, but he stopped her, choking and gasping.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” she said, irritably.

“You don’t know Arthur like I do, apparently. It’s just like him, you know. Not even married a full day before he drives off his wife. Typical. He always was such a tool. Good on you for getting out before you turned into a dry, old popcorn fart like him.” 

“He’s not that bad,” she responded without thinking, before frowning. Why was she defending that jerk? 

“Sure he is, and you know it. He’s just like the rest of them up there in that balloon. Rules and codices, tradition and procedure. Ugh. Nope. Not for me.” He leaned back and looked Rosaline up and down, heat flaring in his eyes. He leaned forward again. “I see why he picked you, though, Rosie. You’ve got it going on for sure.”

He said it in a low, growly kind of voice, and Rosaline felt it straight to the marrow of her bones. His eyes, so much like Arthur’s, darkened as he looked at her and she felt heat twirling in her belly. She squirmed uncomfortably and looked away.

Will’s companions were pointedly looking anywhere else. Well, all of them except for Cait, who’d gotten up and was standing at the bar again. 

A local sidled up next to her and she glared at him, but he smirked and took no mind. Instead of backing off, he decided to slide even closer. She responded by shoving him back, and he responded by stepping up again, this time angrily.

Vadim was clearly on the side of the local, and Rosaline could tell he was about to tell Cait to step out. 

He didn’t have the chance.

Jericho had already stalked over to the local man and decked him in the back of the head. 

This caused an uproar. The locals didn’t take kindly to some old raider gang coming in and starting shit, so it was only a moment before there were punches being swung all over the room. Cait and Jericho were back to back in the centre of the room, while Charlie picked up a chair and flung it across the bar. Vadim ducked just in time, but the chair smashed into the line of bottles on the back bar and the smell of alcohol filled the room.

Will stood and grabbed Rosaline by the hand. “I think we’re outnumbered,” he shouted, but the laughter in his voice indicated he was rather enjoying himself regardless. “I think we better cut and run.”

Rosaline watched in amazement as he ran at the crowd. He was by far the largest man in the room and as he dashed at them, they scattered. “Let’s go, guys!” he shouted.

He cleared a path to the door, his gang following behind, throwing punches as they went. A man rushed at Will, and Charlie leapt over Jericho in a move they had clearly done before and smashed a bottle over his head. 

Rosaline stepped back, pressing herself into the corner by the door, trying not to get hit with anything. Will was almost at the door and he managed to duck a punch and throw the assailant aside, then he slid over to her and held out his hand. 

“You wanna come with us?” he asked. “I don’t think your boss likes any of us anymore, including you. Maybe you shouldn’t have sat with us for quite so long?”

Rosaline looked over at Vadis and together the fim, who was staring at them with such a look of fury that she swallowed hard. When the barkeep glared at her and swiped his finger across his throat in an unmistakable threat, she realized her days at the Dugout were done. 

She looked at Will, still standing there with his hand held out to her and a twinkle in his blue eyes, and made a decision. 

She put her hand in hive of them escaped the Dugout and Diamond City.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Syrenpan for beta reading. You are the best!


End file.
